


A Cup of Tea Is Very Good for Detective Work

by gardnerhill



Category: No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency - All Media Types, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-23
Updated: 2012-08-23
Packaged: 2017-11-12 17:23:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/493793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gardnerhill/pseuds/gardnerhill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two detectives deduce things about each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Cup of Tea Is Very Good for Detective Work

"Mr. Sherlock Holmes," the large woman said behind her desk. "Dr. John Watson. Please sit and have a cup of tea."

"Thank you, we'd like that very much," Dr. John Watson said, and looked at Mr. Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock then sat down as well with a "Thank you, Mma Ramotswe." 

"You are a private detective as well," Mma Ramotswe said. "So you have said. And the man you are looking for may be in Botswana."

"Yes," Sherlock said. "This is one of several countries into which he may have gone into hiding. I'd like to know if you've seen anything out of the ordinary in your work that could point to him being here." 

Precious Ramotswe poured the tea, which was red and strong and had a scent unlike English tea at all. Sherlock took up his cup and sipped it, then set it down and reached for the sugar bowl. John sat with his own unsweetened tea, and watched as the assistant detective and secretary, Mma Mkutsi, typed up letters and bills that needed to go out to clients, her fingers rattling over the keys and the light from the window flashing off her large glasses. 

"If you gave me a picture and a description of this man, I might be able to find him for you," said Mma Ramotswe. 

"I hardly think I'll need help on this," Mr. Sherlock Holmes said. 

Dr. John Watson turned back and said firmly, his eyes on the other man, "By which he means he'll be grateful for any insight you can offer, Mma Ramotswe, and we can pay for your professional advice." 

"I do?" Sherlock Holmes said, still looking at Mma Ramotswe but talking to Dr. Watson.

"You do," Dr. John Watson said firmly. 

"Then that is what I mean," Sherlock Holmes said to Mma Ramotswe. 

The large woman had watched the exchange without adding anything. Only when it was done did she say, "It may be easier for me to search for your man. You may find it difficult to look in a land that is not your own, or to find out things about people."

"All I need do is observe, Mma Ramotswe," Sherlock said. "Including yourself. You were born in another town and moved to Gaborone as a young woman. You also married very young. It was an unhappy marriage and you are now separated, but not before losing a child. You have remarried recently to the head mechanic of this repair shop, Mr. Matekoni - a much more fortuitous match. You created the Number One Ladies Detective Agency and have based most of your work on the teachings of Clovis Anderson."

Mma Mkutsi stopped typing. Mma Ramotswe was silent a long time. John closed his eyes and exhaled softly.

"You have spoken to people who know me," Mma Ramotswe said quietly. 

"I spoke to no one. I see the evidence before me," Sherlock replied. "Your accent is different enough from most Gaborone citizens to indicate that you have come here from another region, most likely a smaller town, but it is blurred enough that it indicates that you have lived in Gaborone for most of your life – so you came here as a very young woman. Your wedding band is of a new style and yet it rests over a finger previously indented by a ring; this is not your first marriage. Your Bible is bookmarked with a strip of paper containing several verses, all of which have to do with the loss of children; the worn state of the marker indicates that this is a loss older than your current marriage - therefore, a lost child from that previous marriage. There is no memento of your former husband on your desk or on your person - no sign of his name, no former ring around your neck, no picture of another man - which means that he did not die, and that there is no good memory to carry of him; that marriage was unhappy and ended unhappily. Your detective agency shares an office with Tlokweng Road Speedy Motors - whose proprietor, Mr. Matekoni, wears a wedding band of identical design. The well-thumbed copy of Clovis Anderson's facile little volume on your desk - amid no other works by other instructors - proclaims its prominence in your work."

Precious Ramotswe said nothing, but bowed her head to take a drink of tea. John tapped Sherlock's ankle with his boot, and when Sherlock turned to look at him John mouthed the word "Rachel." 

"You are very clever, Mr. Sherlock Holmes," Mma Ramotswe finally said when everyone had had their tea. "Everything you said is perfectly true. You are like Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni, who can look at a car's engine and see how its owner has treated it without having to touch it first." 

"Yes," Sherlock said. "I am not ... good with people. I am very sorry if I have hurt you or caused offense, Mma Ramotswe."

Mma Ramotswe nodded and drank her tea. "I can also do detective work, Mr. Sherlock Holmes," she said. "I cannot look at you and tell you where you went to school or what part of England you were born in or if you have any brothers or sisters.

"But I know you are very clever, and you have been very unhappy most of your life because of that. Children can be very cruel to smart boys. So you became smarter, to spite them for being cruel. You read everything and looked at everything to learn more, and because it was very lonely. You thought of other people as if they were machines that do not work right, and perhaps that is why you sometimes talk to them as if they cannot feel anything like machines. Perhaps you became a foolish young man and ran away for a while, or took drugs because you were angry and alone and unhappy.

"But that is not true now, or you would have come to me by yourself. No one here is sick or needs a doctor, but you have come with Dr. John Watson. He looks comfortable, but you look hot and uncomfortable, so Dr. John Watson is more used to our climate than you are - I know England is very cold and wet. He walks like a soldier, which means he was in Afghanistan or Iraq, for that is where British soldiers are these days. He moves his left arm slowly, so he must have been shot in his arm or shoulder, and that is why he is not in the Army now. 

"You look at Dr. John Watson before you do things, the way a child looks at his parents to make sure he is minding his manners correctly. You looked at him and then you apologized to me. He is teaching you how not to look at people like machines. He is your friend - he is the very first friend you have ever had in your whole life - and you are not lonely and unhappy anymore."

Stunned silence. 

Then John said softly, "That was brilliant."

Sherlock looked down into his cup for a moment, then up. "You are very perceptive, _Bomma_ Precious Ramotswe," he said quietly. "Everything you said is perfectly true." 

Mma Ramotswe poured more tea. "I think there is enough discussing each other. I think we should talk about this missing man you are looking for, Mr. Sherlock Holmes."

"I think that is a very good idea, Mma," Sherlock said, and took up his cup. 

They spent the rest of the visit discussing the man's disappearance and what he'd done; Sherlock gave Mma Ramotswe a picture of the man. 

And as both men stood to leave, Mma Ramotswe said, "Dr. John Watson."

John looked at her, this detective who was so different from his friend - Sherlock was white and lean and sharp, she was black and round and kind - but whose eyes were as unerring.

Precious Ramotswe smiled. "I saw the way you looked at my assistant detective, Mma Mkutsi. I think you are envious of how fast and well she can type. She teaches the Kalahari Typing School for Men on Wednesday night at the church, if you would like to join them."

"My rates are very reasonable," Mma Mkutsi added eagerly. 

John smiled. "If we stay in town long enough, Mma Mkutsi, I will be happy to come for a lesson."

"Indeed," Sherlock said, with just a twinkle, "one of us has already received one."


End file.
